Blood in the Shadows
by Firestar001
Summary: Dark. That is all I see in this gloomy black forest. Like the blackest of nights without a moon to guide you, the trees looming over you while the branches shake like possessed by demons. Suspense story for English. OC Desma and Deekin in horror quest


**Okay everyone. This is another story I wrote for English class. This contains Dungeons and Dragons and Assassin's Creed elements. But mostly D&D (Neverwinter nights references too). Hope you all like it.**

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Dark. That is all I see in this gloomy black forest. Like the blackest of nights without a moon to guide you, the trees looming over you while the branches shake like possessed by demons. Internal fear created by imaginative wariness causes me to look over my shoulder numerous times. I shake my head to clear myself of those thoughts, no use in making myself jumpy.

"Umm… boss…" A childish voice sounds out from my legs. I look down to see this 2" tall lizard-man staring up at me with sparkling blue eyes. He carries a lute on his back along with a sword and shield and a pack filled with countless papers. The kobold has orange-green scales all over his body and wears dirty leather armor.

"Yes Deekin?" I ask, looking down at him with a small smile on my lips.

"Are we there yet?" He asks like a child who can't wait to go to the fair.

"No Deekin," I say softly and keep walking, looking through the shadows to find anything who thinks I'll be an easy meal.

"What about now?" My kobold companion asks a few minutes later.

"No Deekin," I repeat myself as I rub my bracers, checking the hidden blade mechanism on my wrists. A simple flick of my ring finger makes the blade pop out with a quiet _snick_; revealing a six inch long dagger. Letting my finger relax allows the spring mechanism to retract the blade into its home with equal silence. On my left spring-blade is another device able to fire off a sling bullet at high speeds towards my enemies, a miniature pistol with only a single shot.

"Umm… boss? What's you name?" My kobold companion asks. "Deekin needs it for his next book and Deekin doesn't want to be repetitive with calling you 'strange-lady-who-keeps-hood-over-her-face-and-never-shows-her-eyes'."

"It's Desma. Desma Noche Asesino," I state calmly as we walk forward. Yes I keep a hood over my head and face for secrecy. Most fighters watch their opponents face in order to predict what they will do. By hiding my face, I get a slight advantage over them.

"Desma. Nokay. Ass-ass-en-oh?" He asks with confusion all over his face. A sigh escapes my lips as I spell out my full name for the kobold bard. Deekin thanks me and scribbles my name down onto the parchment. While the lizard-bard looks at his paper, I watch the shadows. The air is too quiet, too still to be natural. Around my body is light leather armor crafted to help defend myself against attacks. However covering that is a white over-cloth with belts sagging with throwing daggers, pouches and my sword. A red sash runs across my stomach to tie the cloth still while my shins are protected by metal greaves.

"Boss!" I whirl around and draw the sword at my hip; a full three and a half foot long bastard sword. My eyes quickly scan for any sort of danger that the kobold may see. Then I realize that Deekin's pointing to the nearby town, visible with the light of the moon. There it is; the town of Nightwood. I sheathe my blade, cursing myself for being so jumpy and both of us march towards civilization.

We pass through the main gate sooner than expected; both of us ready to find an inn to rest at for morning. Immediately I sense that something is wrong; no guards to greet us, no commoners in the streets, not even a single child running around. This immediately puts me on guard and my hand goes to the sword in my belt. Deekin notices my motion and looks around while drawing his short-sword, the blade the size of a dagger compared to me.

"Aquila Vista," I mutter under my breath. Immediately my vision suddenly goes into a world of blackness. A few white objects are outlined to provide shape and dimensions, but I'm looking for another color. There, the red glow of an enemy stands out among the darkness as it rushes across the street. In the time I blink to restore my vision, I'm already rushing across the road after him as the sounds of battle reach my ears.

"Boss, wait!" Deekin cries out as his smaller legs rush after me. I grab onto a window of a nearby house and scamper up towards the roof, rushing across the tiles to make faster time. When I come to the edge of my roof, several armored soldiers are facing against the town guards; the enemies bearing skulls on their shields and mail with faces covered in helmets. One enemy knocks down a fleeing teenager with a shield bash and posing for a killing blow on the defenseless girl. In that instant I leap off the roof and fly towards him. My hidden blade snaps forward with a _snick_ before burying itself in the neck of the man in an instant. The soldier is dead the minute we hit the ground.

"Are you alright?" I ask the prone girl as my blade retracts itself into the bracer. She just nods and manages to get to her feet while I give her some good advice, "Get to safety."

She nods again and rushes away without looking back. With her safe I draw my bastard sword and parry an attack from another skull-embalmed enemy. My arm spins his blade a full circle before tripping his leg and then stabbing him in the chest piece mercilessly, hearing the sound of organs give out from the coup de grace. Dodging another strike at me, I parry again before stabbing my assailant in the stomach with a fluid motion. Nearby a town guard bashes her opponent with her sword while disarming him at the same time. This leaves her with both blades and her enemy defenseless. The guard kicks her enemy to the ground and holds the blade to his throat, as if expecting him to surrender right there. What the woman doesn't see is another soldier distantly approach with a deadly halberd raised over his head.

"Deekin will fight alongside the great hero!" Deekin's voice sounds out before the kobold bard jumps onto the executioner's back, grabbing the neck with his claws and legs. I palm a throwing knife in my other hand and chuck the dart into the flanked enemy, puncturing the armor with a well aimed toss. As he falls to the ground my gaze turns to the leader of this attack: the only one with the fancy great-sword and spikes on his armor. My blade is swung to the side as I watch my foe. The captain charges at me and a bad parry sends my sword flying from my grip. A smirk grows on my face as I shift myself into his guard, his move leaving himself open for counterstrike. The silent _snick_ sounds out as I bury the hidden blade into his jugular vein. My arms cradle his body as he falls from the assassination wound.

"What was your purpose here?" I ask. My strike was aimed to give him enough time to clear his conscience while granting him a painless departure from this world. As I remove his helmet I notice how his eyes shift from a determined blood red to a calm and relieved brown. Time seems to move in slow motion around us as his life slowly leaves his body.

"We were to kidnap the girl…" he speaks as blood starts to pour open from the wound. "Ordered… possessed… to take girl… to the castle up… on the hill… blood red eyes… I'm sorry… thank you for freeing me… and my men…" With his last breath he goes limp in my arms.

"Hai combattuto all'interno di una illusione di tenebre, ma ora si riposare nella luce della verità," I say to the dead soldier. (You fought inside an illusion of darkness, but now you will rest in the light of truth) "Requiscat in pace."

My fingers move over his eyes in respect for the dead as an act of good. Then times moves back to normal speed for me as the girl I rescued blocks an axe swipe from another soldier. I move to help when I feel something grab my leg. A gasp escapes my lips in shock as one of the fallen enemies grabs me. I kick the helmet off with my boot and see not a man, but an animated skeleton. This doesn't change my determination as I kick again.

"Lasciami morti bastardo!" (Let go of me undead bastard!) I cry out as I free my foot and reclaim my fallen blade. Deekin cries out as he stabs another soldier with his short-sword, the blade emerging red with blood. My bastard (hand-and-a-half) sword gets swung into the few undead soldiers among the living bodies. Regardless of the reanimated troops, both of us make quick work at dispatching the walking cadavers and living soldiers. The guards, watching us fight; decide to join in renewed hope of victory. Steel crashes as blades rub against one another in combat, the sounds of combat echoing throughout the town as the invaders are swiftly driven back or dealt with. I sheathe my blade after wiping the blood from the sword, lest it grow dull with the liquid as it crusts.

"Thank you miss," the head guard comes up to me and gives me a little salute, sweat and blood covering his face and chainmail. "Thank you for helping us in facing these attackers."

"It is no problem, but my work is not yet done." I relay what I learned to the captain from his dead comrade. "I will head to the hills where the attackers would take the girl. If you have any way to assist, I will be very thankful and pay for them full price."

The head guard nods and leads me to the group of arcanists and clerics of the town. All in all there are two mages and three clerics. Not much, but it's better than nothing. The wizards can carve temporary runes into my weapons, not really a permanent enchantment but I am thankful for any aid they can give me.

"These runes will allow your blades to strike at those unholy creatures with the power of the sun god himself, and this sword will be able to cover itself in shining flames to guide your path through the forest." One cleric explains as my hidden-blades are imbued with magic and a wizard brings me a long-sword made of silver metal with a blue gem on the guard. Pressing the blue stone causes the blade to burst into silver flames. Deekin receives an amulet said to make his scales even tougher than normal along with a short-sword made from adamantine metal to cut through anything. We arm ourselves with a few healing potions as only an idiota would go on this journey without any curative balms.

"Gracias, you are too kind," I say as I outfit myself with my gear. My only disappointment is that the holy enchantments on my hidden knives have a drawback despite being effective against skeletons and their ilk. The enchantments will last only for a limited time, but I can increase their lifespan by keeping the enchantments deactivated while still keeping my blades in use. With our weapons and a map of the area both of us settle onward to the castle in the forest of night.

"'And the brave heroine journeys onward into the forest of shadows, ready to face anything that stands in her way. She is able to stare directly into the eyes of evil and never flinch. Deekin thinks it's because evil can't stare back,' " Deekin writes in his book. I stay silent and keep my eyes peeled. There's a possibility that whoever sent the attack on the town already knows it had failed, which could mean eyes in these woods to watch for us. Any paranoia I feel immediately gets pushed back when we reach the castle, the black gothic architecture made clear in the moonlight.

Suddenly I hear someone crying; a baby as if calling for her mother. This crying soon changes into the shrieking of a young child like being branded with heated iron, then a young woman screaming in pure terror at the top of her lungs. The screaming woman soon turns into an old woman choking as if she's suffocating on her own breath, and then silence. Deekin and I shiver in terror as we hasten our way to the castle entrance, the stone gargoyles watching the visitors. My hidden blades pop out with a quiet _snick_ and I slowly push open the aged door. Inside the room stretches out 60 feet back, torches dimly lit to cast shadows around the room. A stairway upward is on the left and a curtain flutters farther back, leading to the kitchen. A long table sits in the middle of the hall with dust and cobwebs on the surface along with fresh fruits and candles, sparkling clean plates and filled glasses of red wine.

As I walk closer to the dinner table, my ears here the sound of a clawed foot leaping off the stone tiles, causing me to whirl towards the noise on instinct. A pale-white and skinny humanoid hisses in the air with long black nails extended towards me, a set of yellow fangs in its mouth. My arms react; the hidden blades stabbing into the creature's eye sockets and reach the brain under the dusty black hair. The creature goes limp for a second before lashing out in renewed anger, cutting my arm with dirt-covered nails. I retract my blades and duck under another swipe while punching the creature in the gut. Blood drip's out of the wounded eye sockets as it hisses in anger at me, the dead sockets glowing with an ominous red light. Before it has time to react my right blade drives into its skull and cracks the spine. The pale creature lashes out twice before slumping to the floor in a pool of black and red blood, my kobold friend standing over the corpse with a smile on his face.

_Great, Wights. Undead with a brain, and claws. _I let out a grim sigh as my blades sheathe themselves as I quickly look around for any more creatures. Nothing else moves in the shadows, but I've learned to never let my guard down. Silently I move along the stone floor and slip past the curtain in the back west corner, gaining access to the kitchen. Two tables sit evenly spaced away from each other with two lit candles providing an eerie light. Five doors are in this room; two at the north, one to the west and father south to the eastern wall is the final two doors.

Deekin walks close to me with his short sword gripped in his hands. His eyes look around wildly with fear in them. Suddenly I hear the sounds of bones rattling from farther down and hear the sounds of the undead groaning in the room. My long-sword is drawn and I ignite the flames with a press of the gem. The sword illuminates the area in a warm silver glow, exposing hidden enemies. Five skeletons stand in the room along with two more pale-white creatures like the one before; these two wearing plated armor over their body.

"Another beauty for the master," the first Wight hisses as it brandishes a spiked mace from its belt. "Master will enjoy another pretty lady."

"Tell your master that I'm no lady," I retort with a smirk on my face. Both pairs of red eyes glow with anger and both let out wordless hisses. They rush forward and I ready my blade to meet the charge. One of them moves faster than I expect and land a solid blow on my arm, spikes drawing blood. The other morningstar slams into my back, but my armor dulls the blow threatening to shatter my spine. The five skeletons in the area lumber towards me upon hearing the combat, each one wielding some barbed weapon with promises to draw more than just blood and skin.

When the first one moves to stab me, I react on training and reflex. Blades and weapons are blocked by my sword, thrust aside as the holy flames lick eagerly at the rotting bones and shriveled flesh. All five of the skeletons managed a small gasp before falling into a heap of cinders and bones. Both Wights let out another angered hiss as the skeletons get demolished in less than two minutes of combat.

"I suggest you stand down and I will free you quickly and mercifully," I advise while the long-sword is re-drawn. The Wights advance with their own weapons with yet another hiss. One strikes me in the chest and the other thankfully bounces off my armor. I grunt and swing my sword in a riposte attack, but it only cracks the plate mail.

"Nobody hurts Deekin's boss!" Deekin is suddenly at my side and stabs his blade into the thigh of one unholy fiend. Our enemy flinches back with a cry of pain, turning its attention to the reptilian kobold. As soon as they lock gazes, it's too late. My palm clutches the head with a blade in the throat. A flick of the wrist snaps the neck to make sure death is certain. The other Wight doesn't even have a chance as my blade stabs a chink in the plating.

"Possono le vostre anime sono esenti da questo regno. Requiscat in pace," I say as I lay them on the ground, putting cloth over their empty eye sockets. (May your souls be free from this realm. Rest in peace). As I loot their bodies for a few gold and gems, I feel unnerved in this room; like my every move is watched, monitored, recorded, assessed all for some unknown reason. My feet wander into the pantry, finding fresh fruits among the rotting wood. I shrug, assuming that magic is involved to keep food preserved from time. I cut off a slice of apple with a dagger and, satisfied that it's fresh and unharmed, pop it into my mouth and chew.

"Urk!" The piece of apple gets spit out right at the second chew. I light a sunrod and bend down to my rejected fruit. There's only the skin of the red apple and instead of fresh whiteness, its moldy meat with maggots and worms along with a human tooth. My hand immediately goes to my mouth and I shove the curious Deekin out of the way before throwing up in a nearby box. Food, water and vomit all mix together as I express my disgust for what just happened. After dry heaving a few times I pull myself back, holding onto the pantry shelf to calm myself down, as if I aged ten years in a manner of seconds.

"Umm boss… Deekin gots to pee…" Deekin suddenly remarks through my nauseous head. I flick my thumb over to the box with puke in it. "Pee in there. You're not going to kill it."

"But Deekins never had to pee on sick box in the wild," Deekin says while prancing around. Another sigh escapes my lips and I point outside, "There's a tree in the courtyard. Second door on the north."

Deekin nods and dashes off to relieve himself while I up-chuck another cookie. While Deekin does Deekin business I can't shake off this feeling that someone is watching me with a hungry intent, like they can't wait to meet me in person.

"Aquila Vista," I mutter as my vision goes limbo into five-color world. The fifth color being two gold-yellow footprints vanishing and appearing like someone was walking away from the kitchen. My body feels compelled to follow them as they step past the dead Wights and up the stairs to the first floor hallway. The glowing footsteps pad into a door and I follow them, muffled sobbing coming from the other side of the door. When I open the door I see a strange image before me; a transparent gold-yellow woman sobbing as she paces back and forth with her arms in her hands. She wears fine clothing and appears young and beautiful at the prime of her years.

"Why does he not love me?" she sobs. "I have been kind to him, accepted his gifts and proposed to him. Yet why does he cheat on me with that common…" the last word is cut off with another bout of sobbing while I step into the room. She doesn't seem to notice me and in her hands is a key with a skull on it. Suddenly there's movement in the shadows and the woman whirls around with a gasp of fear. Backing away, she slips the key into a dresser drawer as she watches the creature of shadows move closer. The woman opens her mouth to scream when the darkness wraps around her before they both vanish and the vision ends back in the world of color. My hand wanders to the drawer where I saw the key being placed and my hands re-open the container, removing that same key that was placed along with a map of the castle. It also contained a map of the first floor, including a secret trapdoor hidden next to the pantry. When I cast my eyes to where the woman was dragged, I see her terror-stricken face floating like a ghost before it vanishes, as if the light was playing tircks.

"You okay boss? You is looking a little pale," Deekin notices as I journey over to the secret passage where the vampire should be.

Silently I drop down into the crypt and my hidden blades pop out with their trademark _snick._ The smell of dampness heavy in the air as we walk like ghosts in the dimly lit catacombs of the vampire's lair, neither of us making a sound on the stone floor. At the entrance I see words scratched into the tomb: "Here lies the resting place of Brother Solasto. The Prophet of Blood. May he return to this world to rule over the creatures of the Necropolis."

"Now the time had come for the mighty hero to face the dreaded beast at last. Could it be done? Could the beast be slain? Was there a fresh pair of shorts in the backpack?" Deekin narrates as we charge down into the crypt of the basement, blades in hand and determination on our faces. Both of us stop as we reach the nearby door and the sound-deadening dirt turns to stone tiling. A finger goes to my lips as I examine the door. Locked, but the skeleton key fits like a glove and rotates the tumblers. As the door opens up, I see a lone figure at the other end of the crypt chanting in a foreign tongue. Two braziers' burn at the sides of a stone altar, covered with strange powders, liquids and other components on the surface. Silently I mutter a single word, svanire, and my body vanishes from sight. Not a sound is made aside from the chanting as I take silent steps towards the creature, raising my hand up to make the kill with the dagger. My mind calculates the time for me to utter the magic word and the time it will be for the knife to hit the man's throat; right before he could say 'death'. When I'm right over him I make my move. His only warning is a muttered word and a _snick_ of a glowing bright yellow dagger as I plunge it into the jugular vein. Or _plunged._ Before my eyes the man turns into a strange red mist that flies away from me and before his body reforms itself on the other side of the altar.

"I will give you credit for the correct place to stab, if I was alive…" the man says with a dark smile on his lips. His yellow eyes glow from the shadows as he grins, showing two long fangs. I raise my eyes up to his and there's a flash red. In that instant I feel a headache come on me as his will tries to dominate mine, to make him my slave or worse.

"Aw come now. It won't be that bad. You'll be able to live on for eternity. While others grow old and turn to dust, you will always remain young and beautiful," the man – no, he's a monster, not a man – says as I clutch my head in agony. He advances forward calmly like we're having a chat even as I stumble a few feet away.

"I can give you whatever you want darling… money, power, dresses, a keep of your own… there _is_ the thing about needing to drink blood but I can take care of that for you my princess…" he coos as he advances, still showing off his fangs with that smile. As I struggle I hear Deekin's doom song marching through my brain and pushing out the vampire's influence. With a sudden burst of mental strength I shove his will out of my head and stand up straight. My body language unmistakably gives him a message that even an idiot can read.

"You will die," I speak in a cold tone that even surprises me. With that I lunge at him, my hidden blades glowing with holy energy. He seems to dodge my every strike. Left, right, lungs, throat, legs, shoulder, breast, head, knee and mouth I strike yet my blades bite empty air with the speed at which he moves. Even after everything I do, he seems to be only an inch out of my reach. Two throwing knives are palmed into my hand before flying at the man. They come within an inch of his nose before he dodges effortlessly and reappears within my reach. A flurry of blows assaults my body as he strikes me in several different places with fists like hammers.

"Join me and I will offer you power beyond your wildest dreams…" he offers as I lay on the ground, feeling like tenderized meat. My only response is a kick to his dead, shriveled jewels. Even though they're dead, he still flinches away and allows me to get back on my feet. I rush up to strike at the vampire with my bracer-daggers. The vampire man's eyes widen at my newfound speed as my image blurs with my movements. He strikes with a drawn sword that hums with energy, but my holy weapons pierce his vampire skin and carve out scars in the pale flesh. I must have gotten a little too cocky because I suddenly find my neck gripped in his arms and growing weak in his hold.

"What are you… doing?" I weakly ask as I feel my energy being drained like a battery. He just laughs aloud as he glows with this sick red aura.

"I'm just having a midnight snack that's all," Solasto chuckles and makes this sick slurping sound as if drinking some wine. "Don't think that lizard will come to help you. He's much too scared to do anything right now. I made sure of that."

When I look back it's true; Deekin is in fetal position and rocking himself back and forth with fear in his innocent blue eyes. Rage fills me and overcomes my weakness as I stab the prophet in both of his eye sockets. He shouts out in pain and stumbles backwards towards the side of the altar. I quickly leap onto the altar and soar through the air like an eagle before slamming my hidden blade into Solaso's jugular vein and pin him down.

"I only wanted… her to be happy… I only wanted… to find true love…" he gasps out while I drive a knife into his lower throat. When he tries to escape, my sword stabs him in the arm and my other hidden blade pins his other hand down.

"True love does not come from material possessions. It comes from faith in your marriage and from your heart. Requiscat in pace," I say and make the sign of the cross before plunging the stake into his heart. Show mercy to your enemies, even if they do not deserve it. That is one of the three rules I abide by. With my enemy down I stand up before suddenly this floating black cloak flies over to me with glowing red eyes.

"Thank you," the woman's voice speaks to me, hoarse but still able to carry her thanks. . "I killed many innocents in my years as his slave, and I hope I can go to the place where my family is." She looks like she was going to say more when she abruptly fades away

"Possa tu essere perdonati per i peccati non suoi. Requiscat in pace." (May you be forgiven for sins not your own. Rest in peace) I say, making the cross before heading into Salaso's chest, pulling out documents and books on his plans for the Necropolis. They detail everything about this renegade cultist's path to divinity and his dark plans for the countless corpses resting deep within the catacombs of the forgotten tomb.

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**As some may have noticed, I've put the translations in parenthesis () so no one has to go down to the bottom to look up the translation.  
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**If asked, I will put up the character sheets for Desma and Deekin as I've designed for this story. So there we go. My second One-shot. If you guys want, I can try to add on to this story. If I can get some motivation, I'll help design a plot with you readers so you can choose the path for the assassin to take. Alright. So here are a few plot ideas: **

**The Necropolis  
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**Fan-given idea.  
**


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